A Change of Heart
by Jam Black
Summary: Jim is faced with a dilemma with his refusal to acknowledge his feelings for his first officer and carrying said officers child after an event in an uncharted planet. Will Spock accept the pregnancy since he is with Uhura or will he have a change of heart. (Suck-y summary, more explanations inside)
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **A Change of Heart

**Paring: **Spock & James T. Kirk

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters.

**Warnings: **Mpreg, slash (More warnings in future chapters but this is the gist of it all)

**Rating: ****M**– you have been warned.

**A/N: **Based on the prompt "Baby Maker" by KrazieKat2009 which goes like this:

"Features preggers!Kirk. I would like for Spock to still be in a relationship with Uhura at start of story. And Jim has secretly been in love with his First Officer for the past year. No one knows of his attraction to Spock, not even Bones. (Though he can be suspicious if you want). During a scout out on a once technologically advanced planet, Spock and Kirk stumble across an old, left behind piece of technology. The technology feeds off of emotional energy to create new life; it senses Jim's utmost desires to be with Spock, and so it activates and causes Jim to be impregnated, with Spock as his child's DNA "donor". Neither Jim or Spock are aware that Jim has been impregnated at first, but soon they become aware. Another side effect of the machine is that it causes the pregnant person to become more dependent on the one s/he has feelings for, so Jim's attraction magnifies, and it takes all he can not to let Spock find out. BONUS POINTS: If Spock, at first, wants nothing to do with the baby because he is with Uhura, but his paternal instincts start to kick in and his attraction to Kirk grows intensely."

Now, I don't usually write or read Mpreg, but this challenge was too good to pass. So here goes… this would be my first in many attempts to actually complete a story and write an actual smut fest for y'all. So, be gentle. Might I add, this isn't beta-ed.

**Chapter 1**

It was when Jim saw them kissing in the transporter room when he felt he _might_ have feelings for the "pointy-eared bastard". It wasn't the soul shaking, lust-filled, want-to-get-to-know-you-and-eventually-have-your-c hildren-if-I-could kind of feeling, oh no. But, it was rather the type where a shared coincidental look made his insides flutter. He could easily shake off the feeling, he was capable of that, but the longer his tried to brush off the nagging feeling in his gut it would always come back to haunt him.

"So, her first name's Nyota?" he found himself saying to lessen the uneasiness he felt. Uneasy, yes, due to: 1) the fact he had yet to see anyone actually connect intimately with the Vulcan and 2) the unsettling feeling he had when they kissed.

"I have no comment on the matter." It was a stern and expected reply.

Alright, maybe he was wrong about what these feelings were, certainly it wasn't _Love._

A snigger unceremoniously erupted from him. _Yeah right, love. Just keep telling yourself that._

"Energize, Mr. Scott."

* * *

Almost a year now has passed since Nero's defeat and now here they were, travelling the galaxy to find an uncharted planet just a few days-with warp speed- after Delta Vega. It was a fairly easy mission: survey the planet, find survivors, and find new technology, the works. But Jim couldn't help but feel apprehensive. He didn't know why but he did.

"Captain."

Jim broke out of his reverie and found himself staring at dark brown orbs. Sparkling dark brown—

"Yes, Mr. Spock?" he shook his head mentally and berated himself for describing his first officer's eyes. A small flutter in his chest all but made his situation more compromising when the aforementioned First Officer's eye brow raised slightly, a look of concern marring that steely profile. For a minute there he thought it made the Vulcan appear more human and subtly wondered if his Linguistics Officer had anything to do with it.

There was a sudden pang where his heart was-anatomically speaking- in which he kept reminding himself that those pangs occur rather frequently when the topic concerned Spock and Uhura.

"Captain!"

Jim looked again, this time the concern was evidently present in Spock's face as much as the Vulcan detested showing any signs of emotion.

"Apparently you have not been listening to a word I was saying, sir." Spock stated academically, clasping both his hands behind him.

"Enlighten me."

"Our shift has ended, sir. It would be wise, as to seeing your current state, for you to rest." Spock said.

Jim nodded once and stood from his chair. Without looking back at Spock he tapped the first officer's shoulder and out the bridge.

Once he got into the turbo lift, however, rather than heading to his quarters, he instead went to the medical wing. The minute he was there, he was surprised to see the medical wing totally empty. Bones had just finished packing up sterile equipment into each container in every bed when Jim entered, bad posture and all.

"And here I thought I was the one who looked like shit more than you." The doctor muttered as he pulled a flask out of his blue regulation jacket. "Here, it looks like you need it more than I do."

With a small shrug, Jim sat across McCoy and took the flask. "Is this doctor's orders?" he said before taking a sip, amidst cringing and coughing at whatever spirits the doctor concocted. "Jesus, Bones. That is a strong one."

"Well, think of it as a friend's rather than a Doctor's." McCoy took the flask and tucked it back his jacket. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I spaced off, in the bridge." Jim sighed. "Hey, what are your opinions about Vulcan—."

"Oh, hell. Not again." Bones moaned, dropping his head back in an exasperated gesture. He did that quite frequently as well. "Look, you bastard. If you ask one more question about Vulcan…sexual practices, next time you visit the medical bay, I will personally drag your sorry ass to the alien you're so suddenly interested in."

"It was only a matter of curiosity." Jim replied sullenly. "And you know how Vulcans are so…anal about their sexuality." He chuckled at his own pun.

"Good God." Bones rolled his eyes, but Jim caught the amusement in his voice.

Jim got up and saluted the man. "Well, if it is any consolation, my good doctor, I bid you a good night."

* * *

By the time Jim got to his quarters, after being to the mess to eat his night's fill; he felt light headed and dizzy. His body was in heat, extreme heat, and… "What the hell did Bones put in that drink?" he flopped onto his bed and tried to ignore the pool of blood into his nether regions. _Goddamned doctor._

He knew it was months after he has gotten a good shag on or off planet. It was his ship for Christ's sake; he couldn't just grab a member of his crew and do unspeakable things to them. And he surely knows that was part of regulations.

"I'll just get a shower, a nice cold one." He mumbled to himself and got to his feet. He nearly ran to the shared bathroom, fearing the slow trod to the bath room would aggravate his…predicament. Once there, he stripped off his regulation clothing and stepped into the shower, gasping slightly as the cool water hit his skin. He merely stood there, waiting for his body to adjust to the coldness and letting his thoughts drain from his mind and into the water that dragged down his skin.

In the confines of his bath, he had never thought of the severity of his thoughts, his thoughts that mostly ran around the person of his first officer. It was strange that he even thought about Spock. After Nero, he must admit that they have become closer, even to the point of becoming friends. It was just as Selik-or rather older Spock-had predicted. But now that he and Uhura were…intimate, it was harder to have the Vulcan for himself…

"What?" Jim started. Of course it wasn't that he wanted to have a relationship with Spock, it was more for the companionship, as it was not long ago where Spock had often visited his quarters to play a game of chess. But there was nagging feeling of something more that was carving out Jim's insides. He didn't want an intimate relationship, he did not need one.

He was well into his un-aroused state when he heard a soft and barely audible sound from his first officer's room. Albeit surprised, curiosity over-ruled it. He turned down the water, but only to a minimum where water can still be heard but enough to feed his curiosity.

"_Mmmm…Spock._"

Jim gasped. _Hell, they're actually doing it?! _He leaned in closer to the wall nearest Spock's Quarter and listened…attentively.

There was a small grunt, definitely male, and definitely…_Oh, god._

He felt his heart start to hammer in his chest, he grasped on to the wall and pressed his ear on the wall.

Uhura's moans were short and unrestrained, but all Jim heard were the soft pants and grunts that came out of the Vulcan. And, hell, they were affecting him as much as they were affecting the linguistics officer.

"Shit." He hissed as he felt his appendage spring to life once again. "_Shiiiiiiiit!_" he hissed again.

"_Mmmm, oh god, Spock. Touch me here._"

Jim shut his eyes. Erasing all images of whatever Spock touched that made Uhura gasp. Instead he imagined those hands over his body: stroking his sensitive fingers over Jim's heated flesh, caressing his face, his jaw, his neck. He shivered at the thought and grabbed his cock, running a loose fist over it as images after images of Spock bringing him to completion insulted his mind.

_Whatever his hands touched his lips soon followed, this time, a barely there pressure was what greeted him as his hands traveled lower. Where ever his lips touched heat followed suit. He was arching and moaning underneath _his_ first officer, asking for more contact._

"_Uhura._" Spock grunted.

Jim's eyes snapped open. He stroked harder, faster.

_Oh, god, Jim… the Vulcan would say as his lips traveled down his navel, dipping his hot tongue into it and stroking the inner depths of it until he kissed lower, following the trail of dark golden hair that went underneath his pants. He kissed and licked only up to the part of his waistband before moving up to his navel, his tongue moving suggestively and lewdly as a mirror to his intended actions later._

"Spock…" Jim moaned softly. _Harder, harder, harder… oh god, oh….. oh!_

Jim slumped on the tub, staring at his soiled palm…

Shit.

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N: **Holy Shit! That was quite a handful. It took me almost a day writing this and I admit it isn't much. But… holy—I never expected this to be difficult. And I tried to write McCoy and Spock, and tried to put them in character as much as I wanted them to but… ugh I could just cry from my attempts!

I admit to that I didn't follow the prompt exactly. Jim should be in love with Spock in the beginning. But I had plans for Jim and Spock… so might as well alter it a bit. I hope that's okay.

Ugh! And this isn't exactly canon. Haha I did a great deal of research on warp speed and Jeffrey Tubes and all that. I must admit again that I'm not a die-hard Star Trek fan, but I do like JJ Abram's version (KUDOS!) and English isn't really my main language (as you can tell by the grammar).

As I have much time on my hands now, I will, in all my efforts, finish this story! I will! Seriously.

So… I thrive on reviews. Tell me what you think (honestly). Express your grievances as I might have ruined the characters.

~Jam


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After that encounter in the bathroom, his earlier suspicions have finally proven themselves: His thoughts were starting to haunt him. From the time he entered into the bridge, he might as well prayed that a crack in the ship was left unchecked and once he has passed that said crack he was sucked into space and never seen or heard of again, but to no avail he was still there in the bridge. The subject of his taunting was already there, as expected, busying himself in his station as Jim entered unnoticed. He might as well stay that way—unnoticed—to keep himself preoccupied with last night's unwelcomed occurrence.

"Good morning, Captain."

Jim's heart caught in his throat. He turned all too stiffly to face his first officer and nodded simply. _Dammit, Jim! Keep yourself together._

There was that familiar thrum in his heart. It was that painful nagging pang but now it was included by a wild summersault that had him wondering. _Oh god, those eyes. _He momentarily twitched and let his eyes wander anywhere but those _goddamned _eyes. His eyes did wander, but his mistake was it landed on the aliens hands, the hands he imagined wondering his body, bringing him to the edge of vulnerability and turning him into a puddle of illogical goo at the Vulcan's feet.

Heat flooded his system; he could imagine the Vulcan inclining his head slightly at the sudden change of color of his face. Only problem, he couldn't look at him. But luck was on his side that day, as no snarky, emotionless, and equally embarrassing comment came from the commander's mouth.

He dismissed the flood of unwanted heat and graphical insult with a shake of his head and smiled awry before passing Spock and heading to his chair.

"Mr. Spock." He sat and took a deep breath. "Mr. Chekov, Status report."

"Aye, Cyaptein." Chekov Pavel punched something in the console. "Vwe have entered ze Tarantium Zone. 0.020 light year avway from our destination, Cyaptein. In approximately 12 hours vwe vwill be in orbit."

"Thank you." Jim swiveled his chair slightly to his left. "Mr. Sulu, full thrusters."

* * *

"Captain, I receive no transmission from the planet, or any other transmissions from the radius you have specified." Uhura's brow furrowed. "I think this planet's abandoned."

Jim patted the arms of his chair and stood up, a hint of a smile on his face. "Alright, we were given orders. Spock, Sulu, and Henderson, come with me. Chekov, you have the con."

"Aye, Cyaptein."

As soon he was in the turbolift, all hell broke loose.

"Captain, we must wait for Starfleet for further commands. This is the situation that I've feared; we must not risk transporting into the planet until Starfleet has given orders."

"This is what I feared." Jim mumbled to himself. "Why wait for orders when we were given orders when we left." He kept on walking, heading to the transporter room.

"Sir, it is unwise to leave the ship." Spock insisted, more force in his tone. "According to General Order 15 it is illogical to land on a planet—"

"Without an armed escort," Jim finished. "thus, Henderson and Sulu. They are quite trained in combat. I assume you are too Mr. Spock."

"_Jim! What the hell—?!_"

"Ah, Bones!" Jim rounded the man. "Here to see me off?

"You're a fucking idiot. This planet isn't even classified to be safe. Human safe."

"Precisely, Captain." Spock agreed. "Even if orders were given, I still am against your decision."

Jim's lips quirked slightly and shook his head. "But, that's where you're wrong. This planet is a Class-M planet. Making it safe."

"Goddammit, Jim. This planet is abandoned, from the looks of it—"

"Making it hostile and hazardous, none the less."

He looked from his CMO and First officer with confusion. They agree with each other, hands down, when it comes to disagreeing with Jim. Unbelievable.

He gritted his teeth. "The faster we get our asses off the ship the faster we have to get back. It is Starfleet's orders to have the _Enterprise_ and her crew survey the planet, and _this_"—he held his arms perpendicular to his body—"is _my_ ship. As captain it is under my jurisdiction that we survey the planet as ordered!"

The men stood in silence. When no other comments escaped from the lips of his CMO and the—_supple_—lips of his first officer he huffed. "Ready your gear. We leave in 0900 hours."

* * *

"Uhura, keep your channel open, we'll send you transmissions from the planet." Kirk fastened his phaser holster around his hips and double checked his communicator before placing it in the holster belt. "Scotty, ready to energize?"

The Scotsman entered the coordinates. "Aye, Capten."

Jim nodded and glanced sideways towards his First captain. _Wrong move._

There they were, kissing, once again. It's as if whenever the Vulcan got off the ship he would never return. It was sickening to see the two so intimate. In Jim's opinion it's as if Uhura was seeking more from Spock, wanting more from the Vulcan. If she was asking him to sway from Vulcan Culture, Jim doubted Spock would do such a thing. _Could he?_

"I'll keep an eye on your frequency." She whispered.

Jim shivered. _He's not going to die woman_.

"I expect you to. I'll be back." Spock whispered as well. His hand lingering on her face before it dropped back down to his side to fasten his holster belt. He gave a hint of a smile to her before he looked back at Jim.

Jim was caught staring. _Oh, Shit._ He cleared his throat and looked to the other members of the exploration team. They cleared their throats, evident about the awkwardness in the room. He then turned to look at Bones, who still had that disagreeing look on his face.

"Now, just in case the environment isn't safe, in which I assume is the case, I've packed a few oxygen masks. And a few hypos. If any of you contract anything down there come back to the ship immediately." He handed Jim the packs. "Don't be a dumbass and come back here in one piece."

Jim smirked, securing their pack and giving the other half to Sulu. He saluted the Doctor. "Energize, Mr. Scott."

As the transporter room started to fade, the last thing he heard was: "And, Jim. Try to keep your hands to yourself."

He gaped at the man, seeing that knowing grin and that smug cross of his arms as the room totally faded into black.

* * *

"Well, now we know the air's breathable." Jim stretched his arms above his head. "We split into two. Send your findings to Uhura and we meet back here to be transported back to the ship in 6 hours."

"Aye, Captain." Sulu replied and hoisted their pack on his shoulder. He patted Henderson on the back and headed the opposite direction.

"Captain, I'm receiving Transmission from the _Enterprise_." Spock said after a few minutes. He had his hand in his ear, tilting his head to better receive the message that had no doubt come from Uhura. "There is an establishment not far from here; it seems to be a laboratory of sorts. Uhura read the transcriptions from the planet's security surveillance, apparently—"

And Jim had stopped listening then. He shrugged the pack on and stood.

"—experiments… Captain?"

"Are we heading towards it or not?" Jim said scanning their area before looking down at Spock.

The commander brushed flecks of debris from his pants as he stood up. "Affirmative, Captain."

"Good." Jim smirked, moving forward first, feeling Spock a few steps behind him. "C'mon then, Mr. Spock, the faster we survey this planet, the faster I get you back to Lt. Uhura."

He stopped in his tracks. _I shouldn't have said that. I _shouldn't _have said that!_ He swallowed a lump that formed in his throat and trekked on forward.

"Pardon me, Sir. But what do you mean by that?"

Jim turned, coming face-to-face with the evidently—but only the slightest—confused alien. "What?"

Spock shook his head. "Your inability to apprehend spoken language astounds me. You are only 26 of age, I presume, yet human hearing deteriorates when you reach your 80's or 90's."

"It was a rhetorical question. And it's not because I'm deaf; I was merely caught off guard."

"Then, enlighten me, Captain. To what is your meaning of your previous statement?"

Jim thought it over. What was it all about? It was merely a harmless statement, and the truth at that. He just stated what was on his mind and there was nothing more to it. It wasn't as if it was stated because it was over-ruled by his emotions. No. It was an innocent…statement, nothing more.

"We have to send Uhura some feedback…"

_It was never nothing more._

* * *

"Fascinating." Spock ran his scanner over inscriptions on the walls.

Jim was not at all fascinated. In fact, something was bubbling in his gut, an unknown emotion that threaten to name itself anxiety. He turned while pointing his flash light around the high walls on the building. Metal everywhere, but burn-like inscriptions marred the walls.

"Lt. Uhura, scans have been sent. What do you make of it." Jim heard Spock say. He turned to the commander who was kneeling on the dusty floor brushing off the next inscription with his hands. He mentally rolled his eyes. _She isn't the only linguistic expert on the ship, Spock._

"They're nothing that I have seen before." Uhura's voice came through Jim's earpiece communicator as well. "They're quite similar to Andorian and Klingon, but it'll take me some time to decipher the inscriptions."

"Very well, thank you, lieutenant. I'll gather more inscriptions and send them to you as well."

Jim proceeded with caution, assessing the building as he did so. As he was farther away from Spock than necessary, the Vulcan stood up and caught up to the wandering man.

"Captain, it is unwise to proceed without me."

"Yeah, I was just looking around." Jim said without looking at Spock. "What do you think this place is?"

"I am perplexed as well. Until the inscriptions get translated I have no clue to what this building might be." The Vulcan stated matter-of-factly. "Have you surveyed whether there are other visual evidences?"

"Aside from the inscriptions, not a clue."

They moved forward, through dusty halls and worn out panels on the floor or the ceiling above. Not a single clue, alright. They might as well think this building was a metal structure. By the looks of no windows it was a secret one. Oh, god this was getting creepier by the second.

At the end of the tube was a door, metal doors hanging open. "Ready phasers, Spock."

He had his flashlight in one hand and his phaser in another, knees flexed as he cautiously move towards the door ready to duck when things didn't go well.

"I got your back, Captain."

Jim almost smirked at the comment. He remembered Nero all of a sudden, only this time their positions were reversed. "I know you do, Spock." He muttered.

"Captain I sense no life forms…" Spock whispered close to Jim's ear…_Too close._

By the shock of it all, Jim stopped, hearing a soft grunt as his first officer collided with his back. The alien steadied himself and avoided from tumbling back unceremoniously by grabbing hold of Jim's arms, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Another grunt and Jim was done for.

The alien was hot. Literally. Jim added that to his mental list of Vulcan(specifically Spock)knowledge. He was so close to him, Jim couldn't keep his mental turmoil in check. Flashbacks of last night, his smell, his heat, his body, everything was going haywire. He must get out of the alien's touch, he must…he must… he _needed_…

He righted himself; forced himself out of that confusion and got out of the Vulcan's grasp. He cleared his throat, which maybe his only compensatory mechanism, to get him out of uncomfortable situations.

"Apologies, Captain."

"No." Jim spoke all too quickly. "Let's move forward."

**TBC**

**A/N: **And that—or rather this—is one boring-ass chapter. Sorry for swearing so much. Gonna start on the third to make you beg for more.

Jeez! This is one hard chapter to write. Hahah and yet I wrote it in one day. Hurray, but I bet you'll just pass by this chapter like _'whoooosh!'... _more angsty though, I love seeing Jim in conflict with himself.

Ugh, aaaaaaannd load full of gibberish. Andoria and Klingon are the only 'species' I am familiar with. Just so you know.

Let me know what you think. I need more reviews!

~Jam


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Kirk took in the mold and dust smell of the dome shaped room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Once it did, he was amazed. The room itself was amazing. Tables scattered around the huge expanse of legroom, thrown back, things underneath dusty cloth, everything. It looked like a disaster.

"What the hell happened here?" Jim muttered to himself.

"Fascinating." Spock scanned the exposed materials on the table. "Captain—"

"Jesus, stop it with the Captain, Spock."

"It is under regulations that I call you '_Captain'_." Spock slightly furrowed his brow.

Jim shrugged. "Well, it's too formal. We are friends, right? You can call me Jim when the need arises."

"—_Jim_." The Vulcan had a moment of hesitation but uttered his name none the less.

There was a sliver of excitement that ran up the human's spine. An uncomfortable but welcomed feeling. "There you go. Not so hard, now, isn't it."

"Affirmative." Spock agreed. "As I was saying, the date of manufacture of this material was stardate 2229.65, a mere 4.109 years earlier than the current stardate. It is fascinating that the technology that they had is more advanced than I have imagined. Like this apparatus, for example, it can cultivate a deceased individual's memories and transplant them to a sustainable and voluntary host."

Jim furrowed his brows, moving closer to Spock as he eyed the gadget. "Weird. Is that even possible?"

"I myself am baffled. There are other devices on this table that I have yet to search. Perhaps this facility is quite similar to the Vulcan Science Academy, a research facility. However, based from the star date, the sudden disappearance of this planet's inhabitants, and the intended purpose of this object, it might have been possible that these were made to fight extinction. Plausible, but I am uncertain."

"Well, we can figure that out once we get to the ship. And grab those papers, they might come in handy. I'll go look over there."

With a small nod, Spock returned to his scanning.

_Alright, back to work._ Jim moved from table after table of scraps, scanning parts of what was to become an unknown whole and rummaging through the papers of scribbled down notes. He put down his pack and stuffed the papers in. Diagrams after diagrams, gadget after gadget, he was heading nowhere.

"Found anything, Spock." He called after what seemed to be like a few slow minutes of searching through the ruins.

"No, Cap—Jim, but we must maximize our allotted time. There are more tables to be searched." The alien said.

"Okay."

Jim looked around once more, scanning whatever thing he could find, grabbing papers and subsequently placing them into the pack; it was all becoming a routine. But, something caught his eye. He moved towards the object, lifting the cloth and letting it fall precariously on the floor, leaving a cloud of dust to form in its wake.

Jim couldn't possibly know what the thing was but it looked similar to a phaser but bigger in size. "Cool." He beamed, scanning the table for documents. And indeed he found one: a journal.

Deciding it was 'safe' and free of traps, Jim picked the journal up, lifting the first page and staring at the—expected—alien transcription that littered it. He flipped through the pages and was amazed to see drawings of what was in front of him. As he skimmed through further pages, he noted that the writing had become more frantic, erratic, then smudged then…blood?

"Interesting." He muttered, chucking the journal in the pack once more and walking back to the experiment.

"Found something?"

He swiftly turned towards the voice, startled that Spock had approached him without making a sound. "_Christ!_"

"I assure you I am not named from nor am your deity."

Jim released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "You startled me; I didn't hear you coming. And that was an expression."

"Yes, I am aware of that." he held up a stack of papers. "I just brought these over, as you requested."

"Okay, place them over there. We can carry them back once we're ready to beam aboard."

Spock gave Jim one last glance and headed back to another table, back ramrod straight even after sifting through experiment after experiment. Even after the glace, Jim couldn't take his eyes away from the retreating back of his first officer. Sinuous and sinewy, yes… perfect description.

_Wow, he's got a nice back._ Jim thought as he watched the muscles underneath the skin tight blue science uniform ripple deliciously. His eyes traveled abandoned-ly lower, watching as the alien's hips swayed minutely from side to side, legs long and lean. _Mmmm, and a nice ass—Whatthefuck?!_

He pried his eyes vehemently away from the alien, clenching his fist tightly until it formed dark red crescents on his palm. What the hell was that? Christ, he was eyeing the dude like some sort of meal, or worse, an ideal potential for sexual encounters. Oh, he was done for. Wasn't last night's _event_ enough? Unfortunately, no, as he was starting to feel the stirrings of arousal in his groin; treacherous body and its psychological need for contact.

He held on to the table to steady himself, but was startled by the pain he received instead. _Fuck._ There was a small clean cut along the pad of his index finger. It wasn't long enough for requiring surgical intervention—and a lecture from McCoy—but deep enough to draw blood.

"Shit." He hissed and searched for the little bugger that cut his finger. He focused his light on the table, but found no traces of blood. A bit higher and he found it smudged on the device. "What?" the area where his blood was smudged started to glow, a dark green hue that spiraled around his blood and it was gone. "Strange."

Jim turned to the next table ignoring what ever happened and scanned the equipment. Must have been a fluke.

After a while, he walked back to Spock satisfied with his findings. "Spock, ready to go?"

"In a while, Jim. There is something here that I can't decipher—" He stopped. "Did you hear that?"

Jim straightened his back. He turned slowly, listening to any particular—

"Jim—"

"Shhh."

There was a whirring sound, faint but growing louder and louder and he knew where it was coming from. Shit! He turned to the table, the phaser was glowing bright green, vibrating wildly then with a loud crackle, a beam of green shot out that was aimed right at them.

"Jim!"

And in a blink of an eye, Jim leaped for Spock holding the alien while he felt the beam hit him straight across the back, feeling the sudden heat of the beam radiate through his whole body. With the heat there came pain, a certain amount of pain to have him fall on his knees, let go of Spock and delve into darkness.

* * *

"He's coming through, call Dr. McCoy!"

_Uuuugnh… so much light head spinning noise noise light where pain green green green warmth body body body Spock Spock SPOCK!_

"Spughck."

"Dammit, Jim. Just for a few minutes couldn't you keep your hands to yourself?"

"Ugh…" a slap in the face.

"Don't move your hand Jim."

"Is he alright?"

"I'm getting his vitals, and scanning for other signs like concussions, internal bleeding, but your Captain here can't seem to keep…still."

"Ugh, Bones…shhh—ut your…trap."

Bleary light greeted him as he tried to open his eyes, a few shadowy figures, and beeping noises.

"Where am I?" Jim's voice was raspy, grating his throat uncomfortably. It felt like he hasn't drunk anything in at least a few days. "How long was I out for?"

"You are in the Medical Bay, Captain, and were unconscious for at least 2 days." Spock stood beside Bones, hands clasped behind him once again.

"Ugh…what the hell happened?"

"I don't know, Jim. But that was really stupid." Bones retracted the scanner and looked at the padd. "His vitals are normal. No internal bleeding and concussions."

"Mmmmm… I wanna throw up." Jim was bent over the side of the biobed in an instant, hurling the contents of his empty stomach on to the floor and a few on Bones' Suit. Spock, the alien that he was, side stepped and avoided the mess all together.

* * *

"You're on sick leave for at least 3 days." Bones said, toweling off his hair and putting on his shoes, no thanks to Jim.

Spock has long gone to the bridge, unable to witness anymore of Jim's hacking out of his innards on to the medical bay, leaving the humans alone in the area. Jim couldn't help but wonder why the Vulcan even bothered going down to the medial bay only to leave immediately…oh right, they were _friends._It was an obligation to see how friends were doing after a mishap, not to mention he was the captain. What good is a ship without its captain?

"3 days? What the hell am I supposed to do for 3 days?" Jim moped, putting on his uniform, as he turned on the doctor. A wave of dizziness suddenly hit him and before he knew it he was leaning all of his weight on the biobed.

"And that's why you have to take a leave for 3 days, can't have you grasping on pointy-eared bastards all the time now, can we. Linguistics chick might have my neck." He muttered.

"What?" There was a bewildered look on Jim's face. Did he just hear that correctly?

"I said that's why you have to take a leave. Until we don't know what happened to you down there your signs and symptoms are pretty much general, treating them would have to be a guessing game, unless of course, a dozen more hypos and your good to go back on duty immediately."

Jim reeled. "Nope… 3 days it is."

"I thought so." Bones smiled sardonically. "Off you go then. If I see you lurking about the ship I will have to drag your sorry ass back here."

"Nope. None of that is necessary."

The doctor nodded. "Come back here in 3 days before your duty resumes, I'll run a few more test."

* * *

It wasn't even two days yet and Jim felt worse. One day into his 3 day leave, he broke out in a sweat, shivering but his body felt so hot. Recognizing it as a harmless fever, Jim remained in his room—as instructed—and waited for the fever to subside. It did after a good night's sleep, only to be replaced by body aches and urine frequency and malaise. This was not looking good.

Maybe all he needed was food. A rumbling growl from his stomach affirmed his suspicion.

As he got out of bed, all in his bed suit glory, a wave of nausea and dizziness hit him once again. He hurled into a bin and got up slowly to the bed. This was _not_ good.

Suddenly a shot of pain started from his lower abdomen and radiated down to his legs and up his spine. It was crippling. He cried as the intensity increased, almost blinding the man at the sheer gravity of it. He laid on his side and onto a fetal position.

"Com—computer. Contact Dr. Leona—Leonard McCoy. Immediately."

And everything faded to black.

* * *

"Jim? Jim!"

"Uggghhh."

"He's awake."

"…"

"Jim, I have to take a blood sample from you."

Jim cringed as he felt the needle plunging into his skin and the faint pressure of the vacutainer as it drew out blood. He heard a few beeps then a soft puzzling gasp. _Why is he gasping? Why are _you_ gasping?!_

"B—Bones?" Jim tried opening his eyes but all he got was blurriness, a bright blurriness that he could not distinguish.

"Jim? Jim, it's okay now. The pain's gone."

"Bones…"

"Yup, I'm here buddy." He felt the faint weight of the human that stood beside the bed disappear them came back almost immediately. "Call commander Spock. Tell him it's urgent."

Jim heard a door close. "Bones? Is everything alright?"

There was a firm grip in his arm. "Jim…" a moment's hesitation.

_What's going on?_ "Bones?"

"Jim…you're—"

_What the _fucking_ hell is going on?!_

"Jim, you're pregnant…?"

A flash of light hit him square in the face. Everything started to clear; he saw Bones' face but only for a fraction of a second before he bolted upright to a sitting position.

"I'M WHAT?!"

**TBC**

**A/N: **hilarious. I am a genius. Ha. Quite cliché though don't you think. Hahah this alien stuff has gotten me riled up! Whoooooohhh! What's next?

Oh, my gosh! I wrote the last parts in a rush, I hope the transitions of events are okay.

For fanfiction readers:

**iedencherry: **Hi! Thank you for reviewing! You might be the only reviewee that I have but I appreciate them. Thank you.

For ksarchive:

**Sera:** thank you so much. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter and this one as well.

I noticed that I don't get much reviews… WHY?!

Please to drop by the last part of this story and comment… please, I need constructive criticisms! It boosts my writing prowess to the max… haha egocentric much. But yah, do drop by and say hi or something!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Holy shit, how did this happen?" Jim paced the private room of the Medical bay, running his hand furiously through his already disheveled hair. "What…how…when?"

"I have no idea, maybe you know?" Bones said, all too calmly it was making Jim all the more frantic. "I did the tests and they don't lie."

Jim shoved his arm back at the doctor. "Then do it again?!"

McCoy sighed exasperatedly. "For the 10th time, the tests are conclusive, and your sample was blood, Jim. Blood. It doesn't get more conclusive than that."

"Enlighten me. Please." He fumed, glaring at the doctor the nth time since the past 15 minutes.

"I told you, not yet. Not until—"

"I believed you called for me Dr. McCoy?"

Jim stared at the door, mouth agape. _What the hell was he doing here?!_

"Ah, Commander Spock, take a seat. You too, Jim, you need it."

"What's he doing here?" Jim asked, pointing at Spock.

"Later. Sit down, Jim."

"Is everything all right?" Spock's tone had a hint of confusion. And indeed he was confused.

"This has nothing to do with you. Go back to the bridge,"—he told Spock and turned back to the doctor—"And tell me why the fuck this happened?"

That was the last straw… "SIT YOUR ASS DOWN; IT'S GOT EVERYTHING TO DO WITH HIM!" Bones bellowed, silencing Jim and startling Spock.

When Jim had settled to his seat, a little further away from Spock than necessary, Bones Got his own chair, sat in front of the two with his padd in tow and exhaled. He tapped away and showed both of them a graph.

"This was the result of Jim's Blood test." He said calmly.

"Well I don't understand all that shit. Speak English, Bones." Jim muttered defiantly.

Bones glared at the man, ready to strangle him when Spock interfered. "Go on Doctor."

"Well, to the problem at hand… Jim is pregnant. The blood test says so. Here, let me explain. This"—he pointed at the peak in the line graph—"is progesterone. It's the pregnancy hormone. This hormone is not expected to elevate in human males but it is in yours Jim. And this,"—another peaked line—"is HCG, the most confirmative indicator of pregnancy. Aside from these two your Estrogen levels are also exceptionally high for a man.

"From these result I say you're well into your presumptive signs and symptoms: nausea, vomiting, frequent voids, fatigue; and from the pain that you experienced this morning, I did a scan,"—he swiped his padd and showed that as well—"the pain the you felt was the transformation of some of your abdominal muscles into a uterus, and there is, without a doubt, an embryo there."

Jim sat there silently, feeling his body shake. _How the hell did that happen?_ This was insane, impossible. This was some twisted joke Bones was playing on him. And Spock was in on it too. Acting all calm and collected and…concerned?

Fuck. Who the hell cares about Spock?! This was all a bad dream; a really bad dream. Oh god, this was all so frustrating! Who the hell would play a prank on him? He wasn't at fault. What the hell did he ever do to them, huh?!

"Is this of concern to me, Mr. McCoy?"

"Yes…regrettably."

"Regrettably? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jim gasped, the crack in his voice didn't go unnoticed by the men—gender reference—in the room.

Bones pressed his lips into a fine line and got his padd. Swiping and scanning through grafts and charts before settling into one. He showed them the graft. "I tested Jim's blood for blood chemistry as well…aside from the normal iron potassium and sodium that humans have I found another component—"

"—copper."

"Copper."

The doctor and the Vulcan finished simultaneously. But Spock's voice was just a hint above a whisper, but to Jim it was as loud as an explosion. His voice seemed to echo around the room in Jim's perspective, its shock wave breaking every single damned wall he built to keep himself in check. God, this was not happening.

"You're the father of this thing…oh my god…how can this…how…" Jim's cheeks were suddenly wet, and all went downhill from there. It was uncontrollable, he was fucking crying and he couldn't stop the tears that continued to run down his cheeks.

"Captain?"

"Jim…are you crying?"

"No I'm not fucking crying! These goddamned tears just fell down their own accord! Is this supposed to be happening?"

"Expectantly, yes, your hormones have altered to sustain the embryo. You're practically a woman now, based on your blood chemistry. You might experience frequent mood swings."

"Oh my god!" Jim covered his face with his hands and inhaled deeply.

Just then, Bones' communicator beeped. "Doctor, you are needed in the linguistics lab."

"Alright, I'm heading down right now." He closed the communicator and gave the two a considerate look. "I'll leave you two for a while. I don't know what happened but we're gonna find out soon. And I haven't shared this information to anyone else aside from the two of you."

He stood up. "I'm really sorry, Jim." He said before he walked out the door.

_Shit! This is all fucked up._

"Captain."

"If you even think I'm emotionally compromised I will hack you to bits." Jim grounded out, though his voice was muffled due to his hands which he refused to remove from his face.

"I have not thought of such." Spock said, silently. Too silently.

At the tone alone, Jim knew something was wrong. He peeled his hand from his face and peered at the Vulcan. "Spock?"

"I…I am…clouded by this situation, Captain, and am unfit for a proper conversation." Spock said without looking at Jim. She stood up stiffly and straightened his uniform. "I know we have to decide an appropriate…solution for this predicament, but I am disheartened by my thoughts. I will disclose my final decisions when I have recovered."

Jim merely stared as his first officer walked out the room without a second glance and in an instant he was alone.

* * *

"Shouldn't the Captain be notified of these first?" McCoy said gruffly as he entered the linguistics lab.

Uhura glanced back at him. "The inscriptions and papers the captain and commander obtained from the expedition contained medical entries that needed your insights, doctor."

That quickly spiked the doctor's interest. "Like what?"

"This journal,"—Uhura gestured, flipping through the marked pages and grabbing her sheet of translated entries—"was the most striking of all the documents. Not only did it contain medical breakthroughs but it contained what happened to the planet as well."

"I'm listening."

Uhura nodded, a small smile on her face. "This particular experiment was some kind of, implantation device. It draws a small sample of blood, gathering genetic makeup and hormones that are released into the blood caused by positive emotions. When a donor chooses his 'mate' they both get hit by a beam. The beam registers the genetic makeup of the 'mate' combining it with the donor's blood. Then—"

"Implantation occurs." Bones finished, confounded.

"Yes!" Uhura smiled. "It's quite similar to the 21st century's artificial insemination. No sexual contact occurs between the donors but fertilization occurs, and by just the means on blood."

"Are there any long term effects to both the donor and the mate?" Bones was practically chewing this nails off. _Dammit Jim! This is what you got yourself into? Christ…Uhura's gonna chew my ass off once she finds out! Dammit!_

Uhura chewed the end of her pen, scanning through the pages. "Not that I'm aware off…" she trailed of as she stopped to a page, her index finger guiding her to the texts she was looking for perhaps.

She shook her head. "Aside from the supplements and hormone replacements, nothing of consequence."

"Hormone replacements?"

"Uh-huh. Well seeing that the implantation device was intended for male utilization, hormones needed for embryonic growth and development is scanty in amount." She read on. "It says here, initially the body would create these hormones but as the pregnancy progresses, these hormones would eventually be dominated by the natural hormones."

_Fuck._ "Any other effects?"

"Nope."

"Send me updates when you see any." Bones said as he turned and stepped out of the lab.

James T. Kirk was royally fucked.

* * *

Jim _had_ to make a decision. It's been two days and he was in the bridge, as conflicted as ever. Spock hasn't event talked to him since Bones had explained everything, and here they were. Even if his first was sitting a few meters away from his chair, it felt like he was close enough to touch. It was a weird sensation but it did felt like that.

They were well into the last few minutes of alpha shift and the two haven't spoken a word to each other. The air was thick with tension and the crew felt it. They knew someone was bound to burst and they knew just who it was.

James Tiberius Kirk stood from his chair and stomped towards his first officer. "Mr. Spock. Come with me."

The bridge officers kept their head to themselves, fearing the seething man would spout venom and he was well in to that by now; they didn't need another tongue lashing argument with an unconcerned party.

The Vulcan stood wordlessly, following the captain to the turbolift and out of the bridge.

Man and alien walked silently towards the medical bay, Spock trying to catch up with the man as he was in a near running state. He knew what this was about and was certainly 'not up for it', as the humans would say. He was as conflicted as Jim as well, if not more. The turn of events was sudden and not so subtle, there was little or rather no time to prepare for this, but it was there. Preparations should have been made, consultations, agreements, but none of that happened and he was faced with the challenge of now. He knew Jim wanted a decision from him. He was, after all, though quite unwillingly, the biological parent of the life-form in Jim's…internal structure.

He exhaled. He needed to meditate. But there was no time for that now. If Jim wants a decision, then a decision he shall give.

"I want this thing out of me." Jim all but blurted as he entered the private offices of Dr. Leonard McCoy.

"I was not consulted about this." It was Spock's turn to be sudden.

"You wanna keep it then?" Jim turned swiftly towards him.

"My intentions were not inclined in that manner—"

"Then I want it out of me. If in compromises the relations ship we had before this…this…this accident, then I want no part of it." There was a fire in his eyes that he knew cannot get passed. But he had no choice; he had to try.

"Seeing that this involves me as well, do I not have the opportunity to voice my opinion in this? I was not even consulted. It would be wise to talk about it first."

"Talk about it…" Jim chuckled humorlessly. "Talk about it? You couldn't even spare me a glance, and you want to talk about it?!"

"Doctor, there is possibly some sense that you can push into his figuratively thick cranium?"

The doctor gestured effortlessly. "You seem to be doing a good job at it. You tell me."

Spock couldn't be more speechless. He turned back to the raging man. "You are making an irrational and unnecessary decision. You are at the height of your emotions. What you are suggesting is against the customs of Vulcan culture as well as Human customs, surely you know that."

"But that's our only option!" Jim exclaimed.

"There are many options, Jim. You only have not considered them." Spock put emphasis on the man's name, thinking it would shake him off his mild hysteria.

There was a moment of silence. Spock relaxed a bit at the diminishing air of hostility in the room. He hadn't realized his muscles were contracted until the man had silenced. "There are alternatives am I correct, Doctor?"

Bones shook his head slightly. "We have yet to find out in the journal. Uhura"—Spock felt his muscles tense again—"would notify me on that."

Jim ran his hands over his face. "Then is transplantation possible?"

Well at least the man was calm enough to engage in a diplomatic discussion. "Yes, Mr. McCoy."

"Unfortunately, that is out of the roster of options."

"What? Why?"

"From the drastic transformation to accommodate the embryo, it's just not possible. It was traumatic enough for it to transfer from your abdominal cavity to a more suitable environment; it simply cannot go through a transfer from another host this early."

"What consequences are we talking about here?" Jim sat down.

"Termination is one of them, which I supposed you two are against. There could be massive bleeding, deformations and death."

"We discussed the death already, Bones. Are there consequences on me?"

"I just said it, Jim…Death."

**TBC**

**A/N: **And that was one lengthy explanation. I hope it makes sense to you guys! I put my medical abilities to use and I'm thankful that I didn't do a lengthy research about the tests. That was all stock knowledge. But I did have a hard time explaining the impregnation process. I cut it short, rewriting that part a few times. And notice how early I updated—you might expect another one around later this day… according to my clock about 4 pm—I was so excited to do the next chapter I just had to type it down.

I read your reviews! And I'm so happy and flattered at the same time! Yay! THANK YOU SO MUCH! And for your treat, another update.

I'm starting to miss writing smut. I was thinking of writing one for the next chapter but I think it's too early. But expect some…a few…more…in the following chapters! Ta!

-Jam


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

This was just not possible. A minor incident and all of a sudden he was facing death. Much to his chagrin, there was simple no way out of it. Shit. Why did this have to happen to him?

"I'm sorry, Jim. There is just no other way. If transplantation to another host would be possible, we just don't have that kind of technology." Bones said, keeping it as simple as possible.

"So…" He huffed. "So, you're bluntly and solely advising me to keep it. Go through this pregnancy like it's nothing?"

"Not advising, no. I'm just giving you your options."

"Which is nothing." Jim cut in quickly.

"The decision is still up to you." He got up from his chair and walked around the desk and stood in front of them, leaning slightly on his desk. "I know this sudden and really fucked up, Jim. You two talk it over. I'll be outside when you've made your decision."

When the doctor was finally out, Jim stood and kicked the chair, pacing the floor.

"I know this is taxing on you but hostility is not the answer." Spock said calmly from his chair.

"Spock…Just, just shut up. Please."

"There is no getting out of this situation, Jim and you know it. It is but logical to talk about this. I feel your frustration and anger towards this situation but we must be calm."

"You _feel_?" Jim laughed bitterly. "How can you know what the hell I'm feeling when you yourself void yourself of emotions? You think that being calm can get me out of this situation? I didn't ask for this shit to happen, alright?! So leave me the fuck alone to deal with this!"

In a flash, the Vulcan was up on his feet, gripping the man by his arms. "If you so stubbornly remember, I am involved in this as much as you are. I certainly did not will for this situation to happen. But it already has and I'm failing to keep _myself_ from expressing my emotions from your infantile behavior. I know that you are trying to keep your reputation as a captain, but I also keep mine. So do not…Do. Not. Think that I take satisfaction in seeing you suffer."

Jim stared at the alien, blinking as his sight was becoming blurry. He bit his bottom lip, hoping the pain would stop his tears from brimming to his lower eye lids. But it just wouldn't help. In an instant the man was crying, wiping the tears furiously from his face. Not even that could spare him from saving the last bits of dignity he had left.

He felt his first tense. "I…I am not accustomed to situations like this." He heard the Vulcan mumble. "H…how would you like me to…soothe you, Jim?"

Jim shook his head, pacing his hand on Spock's arms and was surprised to find how hard those arms were. He shook his head again. "It's nothing. It's just the hormones, I think."

Spock nodded in understanding and let his hands fall to his sides, as did Jim's. When Jim was stable enough to talk, he said. "So, what's it gonna be?"

* * *

"I'm…we're keeping it." Jim said long after Spock had walked out of the room and resumed his duties on the bridge, taking on the final endorsements to the incoming shift before retiring for the day.

"I thought to you might." Bones said.

"You thought you might? What's that supposed to mean."

"It means that I knew you'd be keeping it eventually. And that pointy eared bastard wasn't such a bad guy after all, talked some sense into that 'figuratively thick cranium' of yours." Bones slumped on his seat across Jim's.

Jim felt heat in his cheeks. "What?"

"Oh, cut the bullshit, Jim. I know you have the feelings for the hobgoblin."

He gaped at the man in front of him and snorted. "Man, I don't know that you're talking about…"

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, mate. I can see the way you look at him when you don't even notice. And you look at him, a lot."

"That…that's—I don't look at him!" Jim blushed now, looking away from his friend.

"That's a big fat denial right there." Bones mused.

"It can't be a denial, because I don't like the guy. Whatever it is, I can tell you it isn't what you think it is."

"You know, I'm not a psychologist and I'm shit at giving this kinds of talks, but whatever made _you_ decide to keep it, it was a good thing you felt it. And don't tell me it's because you both decided on it."

"_You_ keep telling yourself that." Jim muttered. "So, what do I do to make this work?"

* * *

Jim was an accepting person. From the time he was old enough to remember personal life changing events it all stuck to him like glue, making him the man he was now. He remembered how his mother mourned the death of his father, she told him every single day. She couldn't even look at Jim. But he accepted that. At least he was still alive today, despite the mothering environment he lacked.

Once Jim was old enough to walk, his mother had frequently been off planet. But he accepted that. She was their sole source for survival, he knew that now. But until a few years did he realized it was him she was trying to avoid, her work being the only place that could get her off the pain she felt.

He knew one day that he'd meet someone, someone who can give his children the love he lacked as a child. He accepted that whole heartedly. But because of recent events that reality was about to happen, but he was wary of his capabilities. He was afraid, he lacked the preparation and he wasn't ready. The situation itself was wrong.

Spock had been supportive during their little talk that afternoon, and that persuaded him from deciding to continue with the pregnancy, although Bones was catching on to his personal say on the matter. He did want the pregnancy to work, but there were parts of him that were telling him things would be heading the wrong direction.

Perhaps this had been an ulterior motive for becoming close to Spock, having a part of him when he knows he could never have all of him. But that wasn't just possible. He was conflicted with his feelings for the Vulcan and it would be too early to say that he was _in love_ with him. He cringed at the thought. It just didn't made sense. He loved women, breasts, and smooth skin, dependent on men's strength but independent in their own way. He liked men too, but not in the romantic perspective, they were fun to talk to, relate to, and fight with, it was all about the companionship.

And Spock was just that.

A smile crossed his face just then but he quickly shook that off. He wouldn't be surprised if the support he received wouldn't last long. He was with Uhura, and even if he didn't show it, he was bound to see their relationship through, and he was determined to do so.

And that left him with another point to be proven by this pregnancy. If he was left to take care of this kid alone, then he would see to it that he could do better.

And he accepted that.

* * *

Spock knocked on the door that opened to Jim's quarters, the place that the man has only ever isolated himself in ever since coming from the planet. They were heading to Earth now, but it was taking longer than expected, so 2 weeks have passed and Jim has been cooped up there ever since. The crew was starting to wonder, and it was Spock's duty to fulfill their queries. They have noticed that the Captain was keeping to himself recently, and they were concerned, being the caring crew they were. And if it was to fulfill the concerns of the crew Spock would have told them of the Captain's condition, but it wasn't his place to disclose to them, even if he was involved.

Aside from that Uhura was there as well. She knows what the journal contained and it wouldn't take long before she would realize that Spock was the other party. It was hard keeping secrets from her, but it would be under the Captain's decision if he was to tell her about his…predicament.

And that was why he was there, right in front of Jim's door, to talk about what to or what not to tell the crew.

He heard a muffled "Come in." before entering the private quarters of his captain. Once in the confines, the door sliding behind him, he was surprised to see the captain sticking something into the inner aspect of his left arm while biting on to the cap of the syringe. He loosened the tourniquet and glanced at him after removing and placing a cotton ball on the puncture. "Hormones. Bones said the pregnancy wouldn't last long without it."

"I see." He said simply before proceeding to stand in front of him.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Spock?"

"Captain—"

"Jim."

"Jim…the crew is starting to wonder about your after duty routines."

"Mmmmm…make them wonder. I would be days before we dock, they wouldn't have to wonder long enough." Jim stated simply, putting his things away and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I understand." He said. "But I have a personal matter at hand, and I wish to discuss it with you."

Jim gestured him to go on, but only half of him was listening…why was the room so hot?

"Lt. Uhura has the same concerns and it troubles me to keep this from her." Spock paused, satisfied that Jim was looking at him while he spoke. "I know it is not my place to decide, but she does know the contents of the journal. She is bound to discover things herself when I conceal this predicament any longer. And she is human, and a woman at that; my secrecy will hold a grave meaning to her that may lead to a misunderstanding."

"My, that's a pickle." Jim said, waving his hand dismissively. "I haven't really thought about it yet. I'm sure you can make something up before the cat's out of the bag…"

"Are you suggesting I lie?"

The human nodded simply. "Yeah."

"Sir, permission to speak freely." Spock held his hands at the small of his back. His muscles tense.

Another wave of the hand.

"Lying is beyond me, sir. If you have noticed I am a Vulcan, and Vulcans do not lie. In addition to that, I am in a relationship that is governed by trust and commitment, one of which I know you do not understand, I cannot simply—if I may borrow the human jargon—make things up."

"And what the hell was that supposed to mean?" Jim was out of his chair, standing across the alien.

"My meaning is simple, Captain. From your frivolities I could say that you engage in casual relationships, I expect that you would understand little of commitment."

In a few steps he was in in front of the Vulcan, looking straight into his eyes. "Are you insulting me?"

"It was you who casted the first insult, sir. I was merely replying." Spock narrowed his eyes.

"Then go tell your girlfriend about this. Make fun of me while you're at it, I bet that would bring you the satisfaction you were looking for, if you manage to show emotions that is." Jim seethed, glaring daggers at Spock while he was at it.

"You are acting irrationally and childishly once again."

"Get the hell out of my room!" he yelled pointing at the door.

"My pleasure." Spock replied calmly, but there was a hint of irritation in his voice.

Well, that went well. Spock thought as he strode brusquely towards his own quarters. Their—not so—first fight, Spock would be expecting a wide range of firsts in the incoming months, and he wasn't sure he was up for that challenge.

**TBC**

**A/N:** That took longer than expected, but I'll end it here for now. Hopefully something exciting comes up next chapter. I admit this chapter isn't really exciting, and not one of my bests so far.

iedencherry: I added Jim's thoughts on all of this. I hope it was to your liking!

I'd love to see them fight once more… then turn into something…exciting? What do you guys think?

Ta!

-Jam


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**A/N:** Warnings: **Major angst** and bitterness… with a hint of violence but not too much because I love to see Jim break down every once and a while. Enjoy!

* * *

Jim was on his chair, feeling the eyes of his crew on him, well not on him per se, but he could feel the tension in the air. Not only was that awkward, but due to last night's row with Spock he saw himself once again giving or given the silent treatment. And this was just not working out.

"Okay, Sulu. Keep her steady." He said as he got out of his seat, they were a few more days until they reach earth and there was nothing else to do in the bridge…so might as well face your fears and grab the bull by his—or rather her—horns. Which means…time to find out about this baby business once and for all.

"Uhura, a word." He said.

Uhura looked up, evidently confused. She looked at Spock as the Captain entered the record room, but got nothing but a glace. She stood up and walked cautiously behind the man.

"Captain?" she said after closing the door. She stood in front of Jim, who had been sitting in the middle of the room, legs crossed and chin propped on a fist. If he was there to make her feel nervous, then he was doing a good job.

"How're the translations coming up?"

Oh, so this was what this what about.

"Fairly good. We've translated most of it." She said, still standing uncomfortably in front of him.

"So, tell me about the implantation device."

Uhura reeled slightly and confusion flashed in her face. "I… I haven't…"

"Oh, yeah, Bones told me all about it." Jim said flatly, shifting in his chair and slumped ever so slightly, much like how he did in his captain's chair. "What have you found out so far?"

Her mouth formed an 'o'. "You mean the effects? Well, from what I told Dr. McCoy, I've found that there are a few effects."

Jim sat up. "And?"

"Well…with what I've read there seemed to be some psychological and emotional dependence of the donor to his mate, but that's quite expected with human or any other pregnancies at that."

There was a troubling look on the captain's face, and man, did she catch on to that look immediately. There was definitely something wrong about this and she knew it, she felt it in her very bones, and she didn't like it one bit. Ever since Jim and Spock returned from the planet, the captain had been acting very, very suspicious. As soon as the thought came to her, everything made sense, so much sense! Piece by piece she formed a whole: the frequent medical visits, the sudden arguments that she knew the captain and _his_ first had frequently, the sudden tension and stress she felt from the Vulcan, something that _he failed_ to verbalize.

Her eyes prickled a little at the shock and the betrayal that she felt.

The silence was suddenly unnerving, Jim thought. He had briefly casted a glance at Uhura and if he wasn't scared then now might have been the time where he could have gotten the scare of his life.

Uhura's eyes had widened in realization and there were more emotions that reflected in her eyes; emotions like hurt, betrayal, and loathing.

She was charging towards him…and he was gonna die.

He put up his hands in front of him in defense pushing his chair back slowly. "Uhura, Uhura, I can explain—"

"So that was why you were always of medical leave, you have been implanted and…and with Spock?!" tears were freely falling from her eyes. She rounded the table and Jim all but stood up and stayed as far from the raging woman as possible.

"I can explain! It was all an accident!"

"Accident, my fucking ass!" she slapped his arm. "You wanted this all along!" she sobbed wiping her face with the back of her hand before rushing towards him again, her clenched fist was up in the air and it hit Jim on the shoulder.

"Ow!" he said his other hand flew to his shoulder while the other was still held up.

"_You planned this whole shit to have Spock all to yourself and you both had me for a fool and…and…and… you are a fucking selfish son of a—" _she raised her hand ready to strike him again.

He deserved every hit she threw at him, it was a fair price that he had to pay for ruining her, ruining the love that she had for Spock and ruining the future he had with him. Therefore, all he could do was receive the punches and the slaps and protect himself and the life he now carried. It was a far cry from how he imagined facing her would be, and he indeed had planned all this. He knew Spock would tell her eventually but he didn't expect him to keep it from her even after last night.

And now, Jim covered his head with his arms and crouched down to protect his lower abdomen, in the event the woman would try to hit him lower than expected. He kept his eyes shut, waited for her to hit him once again, but when he had gotten nothing but a small gasp, he looked up.

A gasp escaped him as well when he saw her hand was suspended mid-air, a hand around her wrist; a hand that belonged to Spock.

The Vulcan was standing between her and him shielding him as he slowly stood feeling his airway seize at the sheer shock of it all.

Spock had let go of her hand then, and the woman sobbed even more, grasping the cloth at the base of her neck to stop herself from doing something she might regret.

"I shall allow no more violence directed upon the Captain any further." Spock said sternly, side stepping to obscure Jim from Uhura.

"_And you side with him?!_" she fumed, pointing a finger accusingly at the man behind the Vulcan.

"I assure you I did not intend to hurt you this way. I planned on telling you tonight but Jim had somehow told you first. I apologize, Nyota."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she screamed. "You have no right to call me that after what you've done!"

She turned to look at Jim and he flinched at the suddenness of her action. "I hope you're happy." She said bitterly and stormed out of the room.

The minute she was gone, Jim could feel the uneasiness radiating from his first's back, he didn't turn to look at him or offer him words of encouragement, at least not yet.

The Vulcan turned and a Jim felt his insides churn painfully at the look on Spock's face, the look that was so similar when they both heard the news of Jim's impregnation. "I apologize, Captain, for last night and today's events, I have been immature myself and I should not have provoked you any further."

Jim was caught off guard when the Vulcan looked at him, even more when he offered the smallest of smiles. A smile so reassuring it broke Jim's heart to sharp, bitter, little pieces.

It took everything to keep the flood of emotion in Jim's constantly full dam, but with Spock's simple gesture he felt that dam being opened again and wave after wave of emotions bombarded his system and it was too much to take. And up until recently, the only way he could think of to tolerate such abuse was to cry it all out. And cry he did.

* * *

When Jim woke up the next day, he found himself in a totally different environment. From the strangeness of it all he bolted upright, only to be greeted by a headache and sudden dizziness. He groaned at that, cradling his head in his arms and rested his elbows atop his folded knees. He could still feel the puffiness in his eyes, a faint remembrance from yesterday's uneventful encounter with the enraged Uhura.

"Are you alright?" came a voice towards his right.

He directed his gaze towards the door, mildly surprised to see—despite his still blurry vision—the Vulcan standing there with a tray of sustenance.

"What am I doing here?" he said instead, lifting the sheets off him, only to be stopped as the Vulcan quickly walked towards the bed while simultaneously placing the tray on the bedside table and stopping Jim's hands from removing the sheet any further.

"You fainted." He said simply then furrowed his brow. "Apparently you have not been eating nor sleeping adequately. Dr. McCoy had reprimanded me in your absence and says that I should take responsibility."

He could just smile at the image of Bones berating the Vulcan if it not were for the seriousness he had stated it.

"And,"—he cleared his throat—"and, where am i?"

"In my quarters."

Jim suddenly felt really awkward and averted his eyes. It was only then that he realized that there was a hot, soothing pressure above his hands and cleared his throat. "Uh… Spock…"

"Yes, Captain?"

"My hands…" Jim felt his hands twitch as the pressure was gone.

"I apologize."

There was an awkward silence after that, similar to what he felt after their conversations most of the time, and Jim couldn't help but suddenly feel the guilt ebbing away at his brain.

"Have you spoken to Uhura?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Regrettably, no. I believe she still is emotional at this time." Spock said shifting slightly on the bed.

"I see."

_Are you planning on getting back together?_

He shook his head mentally, fearing the circumstances that brought them to where they are now was much too tender to discuss. It was apparent that the two were on the verge of ending their relationship, if it was yet to come to that conclusion, after yesterday's dramatic revelation. And he felt sorry for Spock for being the cause of that termination.

"You are thinking too much, Jim. It is not good for your health or for the baby." Spock's voice cut him out of his reverie.

"How can you stand to be with me even after what I did to you?" Jim said, eyes trained on his hands he didn't realize were shivering under the intense guilt.

"Do not do this to yourself." There was a force in Spock's voice, but even that couldn't bring him the deserved scolding he was expecting. Uhura had done a fine job, now he felt that it was his obligation to be the sponge that absorbed all the negativities that Spock felt.

"It's all my fault." Jim had started to cry again, burying his fists into his eyes and putting enough pressure to be able to see sparks of white drift behind his eyelids. "I deserve to be alone after what I did to you. I don't deserve your kindness, I don't deserve anything."

"Jim!"

Spock had his hands tightly wrapped around the hysterical man's arms, he shook him until his fists were out of his eyes and he was looking at him. "Do not think for one second that I will abandon you! Because I will never! If you so much as give yourself the guilt that you do not deserve I will see to it that you would need a good shaking back to reality!"

Jim's breath caught in his throat. It was then he knew…

That he was so much, madly and deeply in love with the Vulcan in front of him. If he wasn't, he was well getting there.

**TBC**

**A/N:** Oh My GOD! That was some angsty shit! Ugh I hate myself for being emotional. But I did have a hard time finishing this. I didn't get it to reach my intended 2000+ word count, but I will make it up on the next chapters.

HA! Finally got that out of my head! tell me what you think awesome people!

Ta!

-Jam


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Compromises, compromises_

When Jim woke up the next day, he had found himself in a very awkward situation. And by awkward, it meant that he was using the Vulcan's arm as a pillow, his back molded perfectly against his first officer, able to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest at the advantage of their said position, and with said officer's arm around his waist, the palm of his hand flat against Jim's mid-section. He might have believed he was dreaming, or in a mild trance just after rousing, since lately the idea of sleeping—literally—with Spock was becoming a reality, but what made him think that _this_ was nothing but reality was the not so gentle poke of Spock's manhood on the supple curve of his ass, and with that came a not so gentle push as he yanked himself out of Spock's arms and as far away from him as possible.

Despite the rather rude awakening, Spock's eyes flutter open, letting his vision adjust and focus on Jim and allowing a hint of confusion flash across his face as he registered Jim sitting at the far end of his side of the bed, clutching the covers over his body and not missing the substantial blush that colored the man's cheeks, regardless of the glare. "There must be a suitable reason for this rather untoward reaction."

"Perfectly." Jim's reply was nothing but brash, but Spock had caught the flustered look and a bit—an understatement—of color rise to his cheeks.

He quirked his brow. "Your reason being?"

More color rose to his cheeks._ Fascinating. _"Noting worth mentioning." Spock observed Jim, not failing to notice his eyes drifting towards the area of his privates before quickly averting his eyes, specifically that which was not found in his person. He had clutched the sheets closer to his chest but made no move to get out of the comfort of his bed.

"Are you insinuating the state of my…current condition." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, the snarky bastard that he was, he was making the situation more uncomfortable.

Jim sputtered, only to mentally curse at himself for the ineptness of a more coherent reaction. "N—no!"

"I'm sure such a normal occurrence should not cause a reaction, Jim. As you yourself manifest such a response…" it was a simple reply, but Jim could help but feel like dying to get out of that situation, indeed he was sporting the all-knowing morning wood, but the bastard didn't have to announce such a thing. God, daft little bugger! Instead of blushing his face towards an explosion, he merely stood up, pulling the inner covers and wrapped it around himself, suppressing a soft moan as a waft of the Vulcan's scent occupied his senses.

"J—just take care of that. I'll be returning to my room now." He muttered and turned towards their shared bathroom, entering the over-ride code and entered the solitude of his bedroom.

As the door hissed shut he dropped the sheet over his desk chair and merely stood there to let the situation sink in.

He had been sleeping in Spock's room—much to his dismay—as ordered by Bones, since three days after the incident with Uhura. And he bet it had all been planned, being the cunning man he was. Ever since knowing about his _feelings_ for Spock, the doctor had planned activities that may be both convenient for them and beneficial for the fetus. He had known about the psychological and emotional dependence from the start, and those decisions were merely 'precautionary measures', as he termed it. But Jim knew better, and he knew the doctor was scheming, but despite that certain nature of the man, he didn't complain; and he was starting to regret it, a little bit.

And now, he had just experienced the alien's hard-on, and regardless of his reaction towards it, he found himself excited that Spock had experienced such a thing in his presence, thus, sporting his own hard-on. Sure it was a normal reaction, but he had _always_ longed for a circumstance where he could experience Spock in that state, ever since the night he had jerked off to his and Uhura's love-making session.

He had planned to escape to get rid of his not so little problem, but now that he was in the confines of his bedroom, something felt different, like something was missing.

And as if drawn by the invisible force that came with it, Jim's eyes fell directly on the blanket he had brought with him, and the sudden impulse to inhale the scent off of it was strong; it was drawing him in like a flame beckoning an innocent moth.

He shook his head. Everything about what he just thought was wrong. He was not drawn to the scent, he _mustn't, _he _can't,_ and definitely _won't._ He let out a shaky breath, the scent filling his senses even more with every minute he stood there, simply staring at the material as it emanated wave after wave of pure, unadulterated, ethereal _sex_.

Sensors in his brain ignited, sparking his nerve endings as they hay-wired his body at the assault. He wanted release, and he damned well _needed_ it.

_Fuck._ Without any more contemplation, he grabbed or rather yanked the blanket and sank to the bed, wrapping the blanket around him and enough to cover his nose. God, it smelled wonderful!

Fucking Spock and his smell, fucking Spock and his body, fucking Spock and his hard-on, Fucking…Spock!

He laid on his side and yanked his pants free, finally feeling slightly relieved as his cock sprang free from its textile constraint. Deft hands made their way down the length of his abdomen and finally to cradle and rub his throbbing prick as the scent did their magic. He need not close his eyes to imagine Spock touching him as his scent did that alone, spurring him to his completion as if the Vulcan were next to him, lulling his doubts and discomforts, talking in that annoyingly intelligent diction, feeling his body next to his as if he hadn't moved.

But the time he had taken that only from the alien's scent, pre-cum was already leaking from his cock, smearing and spreading the material deliciously over and around his appendage, twisting and pulling and fisting.

He gasped, moaning wantonly and inhaling deeply. _Spock, Spock, Spock, Spock, Spock…_

He felt the stirrings of an orgasm in the pit of his stomach, coiling and tugging at his gut. _Few more, faster, longer, harder, coming, coming…!_

He let out a muffled cry, gripping the head as it splattered spunk all over his hand instead of the blanket, body trembling from the release.

He rolled over on his back and sighed as the high finally died down. He sat up gingerly and cringed.

"Aw shit, I got some on the blanket."

* * *

"Well, you look fine. Vitals are normal, age of gestation 5 weeks as computed. Do you feel any light-headed ness, nausea, vomiting, and or abdominal cramps as of the late?"

Jim winced when the scanner beam ran over his eyes. "No. Why are you scanning my head?" he swatted the scanner away.

"Just making sure you don't have any other defects." Bone said simply with a small smirk. He replaced his scanner back on his belt and typed on his padd. "So, this would be your last on-board medical exam and seeing that you would want to keep this private, I'd be visiting you in four weeks. Just tell me where to find you, that is."

"Yup, I'll keep you posted." Jim said rubbing his nape. "Uh… so the crew knows?"

"Most of what you idiots were screaming. Spread like a goddamned wild fire; had to pull in Spock to keep it at bay, along with a few threats from yours truly to keep it among the crew while on and when off ship, all these were done while you were unconscious, of course." He gave a heavy sigh. "The trouble you put me through."

Jim's stomach gave a familiar uncomfortable word at the mention of Spock, as evidences of this morning's activity were still clear in his mind, along with the clear, smug, and mocking smirk the Vulcan had given him when they passed each other in the corridor. Lucky enough, he wouldn't be in the bridge with the alien, as being in the same room after all that would have made him uncomfortable, as well as being hot and bothered. But he didn't need another reminder of that. "What?"

"Haven't you been listening to a word I've said?" the doctor snorted. "Ungrateful bastard." There was a twinkle of humor in Bones' eyes, in spite of the venomous comment.

He smirked slightly and sat on the bed, "Well I heard. And thanks, I appreciate that."

"Yeah, I don't get that much appreciation around here anyways." He shrugged.

Jim scoffed and got to his feet. He felt a little bit apprehensive on leaving the medical bay and eventually leaving the ship as they already had reached the space dock a few minutes ago, but Bones had insisted of getting a check-up before leaving for Earth, and now the time had come to finally leave the ship, he was having jitters. _Just a year and you'll be back in no time_. He assured himself.

Yup a year, but the year ahead of him was a long one…and he'd better prepare for it.

"See ya, Bones." He saluted and gave the man a hug.

Yup, one long year, indeed.

* * *

"You wouldn't be heading back to New Vulcan?" Jim stopped reading to look at the Vulcan in complete and utter shock. "What? Why?"

"I see no reason to be surprised about this, Jim." Spock said, sitting across Jim to give off an air of casualness as standing while talking to the man would've been uncomfortable for him and the said man. "Aside from having business here in Earth, I have taken into serious consideration of what Dr. McCoy has said, and as i have recalled, I am not allowing you to go through with this pregnancy alone.

"As I am also involved in this, being a biological and genetic donor of the fetus, I will make certain compromises that will benefit it and…us."

Jim felt his mouth open slightly. _What was—what?_ He mentally shook his head to register all of that. "Pardon?"

Spock sighed. _Infuriating man._ "I have made arrangements in the prospect of securing your and…_our _child's well-being. In the event where you refuse, in which I certainly expect, I will have to dissuade you of doing so because my decision is final.

"In said arrangements, I will have to remind you that this is not hindering me of any of my duties in Star Fleet as well as New Vulcan as it is, in fact, a decision I made willingly and with much thought. Aside from that, you are not to feel obligated to return such favor or feel less of yourself, because I will not allow it." Spock sat silently for a minute, looking intently at Jim as he had clearly stated his thoughts—in which he made sure he did as explanation after explanation was given, surely Jim was not daft to understand—but instead of receiving the comprehending look he was expecting, he rather got the opposite as Jim's face flooded with confusion and surprise at the same time.

"What?" was all Jim could say. Christ, the Vulcan was insanely infuriating. He would've understood better if he just spoke Standard like a normal life-form in the federation would, instead he had to use is well-known intellectual gibberish.

_And such gibberish that came out from that sinful mouth, god, you would just like to kiss the fucking sense into him_… Jim jerked wildly at the thought. _Not the right time to think such thoughts, Kirk. Focus!_

"Standard, Spock. Ever heard of that?" he used his thumb as a book mark and placed the book on his lap, knitting his eye brows as he did focus now, grasping whatever he got from what Spock has just said.

Another sigh. "I was crudely insinuating that you live with me."

"Why didn't you just have,"—wait did he just hear it right? Live with him, alone…live… house—"What?"

"Honestly, do you do that on purpose to elicit an emotion from me?" Spock's voice was firm now, more indicative of his annoyance than his facial expression.

Oh god. Spock wasn't joking—not that he could—but damn… Live with Spock?!

"What…what… why so suddenly? Why make such an arrangement? I can perfectly take care of myself without your help."

"Your arguments are futile, as I have stated before, I have made my decision." Spock's eye brow rose. "As for the arrangement, it would be convenient for me to travel back and forth from there and Star Fleet. It is my mother's ancestral home, so it would be adequate to live away from the Vulcan Standard once in a while and convenient as well since it is the only home I have on this planet. So it is simply for convenience."

"B—but I…can't—"

"Once again, it is invalid." Spock replied all too quickly. "Please, Jim. No more arguments."

Jim sighed. Living with Spock shouldn't be all that bad, aside from being harassed with thoughts he knows he shouldn't have, and he didn't have to necessarily like it all too much as well. He would try a few weeks, and if he thinks it couldn't work out, he could just leave. _Just a few weeks, Kirk_…

"Fine." He mumbled, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. "I'll do it."

There was a satisfied yet quiet hum. Jim watched as Spock stood and regarded him contently. "Excellent."

He strode towards the door in Jim's dorm room, and Jim all but stared at the Vulcan's retreating back. Until he heard the door hiss to a close, only then did he return to his reading, however he found himself unable to take his eyes off the first word..._ Doomed._

And that was exactly what he was feeling.

**TBC**

**A/N:** Whoo! I sincerely apologize for the delayed update, and to those who read the first chapter 7—which I deleted. I hope this one is better?

Anyways, low and behold edit number 4! Longer, as promised. Don't forget to review. Let me know what you guys think. Thanksies!

~Jam


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for the reviews! Though not much, I enjoyed them none the less._

**Chapter 8**

James Tiberius Kirk concluded sometime before arriving and roughly an hour or two after settling in that Spock's house smelled and assumed the ambiance of old polished wood, rustic home-made cooking and danger; when all mixed together, that spelled disaster. It wasn't that he was being pessimistic about the move, but rather he was feeling skittish about being in close confinements with the Vulcan, seeing that he had a tendency to look where ever the alien was at or _at _the alien himself, and that had bothered him.

To make matters worse, he had to live with said alien for at least eight more months; eight long, grueling, and pain-staking months of 'getting-to-know-you-better' activities and frankly, he wasn't up for it if he was to jump at his first officer every chance he got. Oh yes, the urge was strong, and he was lucky enough to be able to regain the dwindling amounts of what was left of his sanity ever since the morning he found himself in Spock's arms.

Even if he reminded himself that this arrangement wouldn't last long, as he had given himself a time limit to this, it still didn't give him the assurance he needed.

He was staring up onto the canopy when he heard a soft rap on the door.

He sat up from his supine position on the middle of the queen sized bed and cleared his throat before saying, "Come in."

The door slid to the side, emitting a small hiss, and admitted Spock into the room.

If Jim hadn't looked when the Vulcan entered, he sure as hell was _looking_ now, as it was a rarity to see the alien in casual clothing. And by casual it meant Human clothes casual. And the look had intrigued and surprised Jim at the same time.

Spock had decided to wear something more casual for the night, and even though he was accustomed to Vulcan casual wear, he had found the same comfort in human clothing, if not more. He was rather fond of the memory when his mother insisted him on wearing the latest human trends that she had snatched during one of her trips to Earth when he was but a child. It satisfied him to know that his mother was enthralled by the thrill of wearing the material in Vulcan, and while his father was off planet. That was then.

Now, he had chosen to wear something simple as he was just in the solitude of his house, a flashy choice of colors would rather be an overstatement. Thus he chose to wear a combination of sleek black slacks and a grey long sleeved turtle-neck; a modest and yet not so eye-catching combination.

But 'not so eye-catching' was not entirely correct, according to Jim. Sure the colors were dull and formal, much to Jim's explicit taste in clothing, but the damned outfit was an eye magnet. Though dull, the fabric was much like a second skin to Spock, accentuating his muscles and his long lean figure. The slacks were, on the other hand, a different story. The article made the Vulcan look more delectable, as his ass seemed to be more plump and muscular underneath the garment, and the way it hugged his legs and…_oh god_…his crotch.

Jim inadvertently let his mouth open slightly letting a small amount of saliva to drip from it. Luckily, Spock was much too far to notice. While he still had the chance, Jim wiped the drool off his chin as fast as he could and sat completely still, despite the uncomfortable sensation of his semi-hard member rubbing against the constraints of his undergarment.

"I hope you found the room to your liking." Spock said once he was in the middle of the room.

"Yes, very much. Thank you." Jim said, thankful that his voice hadn't gone hoarse, in spite of the dryness he felt after the copious amounts of saliva that had formed in his mouth in the past seconds.

"That is favorable." Spock clasped his hands behind his back. "I assume you would like to tour the rest of the house. It is convenient for me as well as I have no other business to attend to this day."

"Yeah, sure. I wouldn't mind the walk." _Or the view of your ass while we walk._

Oh the horror. Jim had given out a strangled chuckle and, for good measures, a tight bite on the insides of his cheeks to calm the raging hormone-driven inner voice he had.

He had noticed the odd look that Spock had given him though, but he just smiled reassuringly, getting out of the bed and motioning towards the door. _Before you drive the Vulcan into the bed that you just unoccupied._

He pinched his thighs as they walked out the door.

Yup, something was definitely wrong with him.

* * *

"This is my quarters."

Jim stared incredulously at the Vulcan's back. "It's right next to mine."

Spock had turned then, eye brow raised and Jim cringed for speaking too soon; he couldn't have just kept his mouth shut.

"Precisely, the proximity would be adequate to access your room, if necessary." Spock said matter-of-factly. "Do you have concerns about the arrangement?"

Jim stared. _If necessary?_ Jim's mind was working out the 'possibilities' of Spock _accessing_ his quarters and the possibilities were endless. He just hoped that the evidence of his hormone addled thoughts weren't showing on his face.

His brain storming wasn't for long though, as Spock was also staring at him with anticipation…his question did need an answer.

"NO! Uh, no…I—I was, uh… just,"—_how eloquent, Jim_—"just surprised." He slapped himself upside the head mentally. Surprised wasn't even the half of it. He was rather…confused, excited, and frightful, all at the same time.

Spock's brow lifted while his head simultaneously tilted slightly. And without a word he turned around and started walking.

Jim grumbled under his breath and followed suite, leaving at least 2 feet of distance between them. He obediently followed Spock around the house, passing through the common rooms and even to the point where he was showing Jim were the pantry was and the cleaning materials and such.

The house had been lovely, but he grew cautious when they reached the foyer, ready to be heading outside.

"Where are we going?" Jim asked as Spock opened the front door.

"Outside." He replied, but caught the uncertainty and the small roll of Jim's eyes as if he hadn't noted the obvious already. "Just around the house, no public places if that was what you were wondering about."

Jim stood on the foyer for a moment and looked at Spock, just looking. It wasn't that he was being tricked or anything, if he was to stay here for a few weeks—an estimated four at max—might as well get used to the idea of loitering around the house...for now.

Spock motioned for him to move first, his face giving off a hint of his annoyance and impatience, but still stayed stoic, none the less, and Jim gave a small nod and walked out. He had waited for Spock on the wood paneled veranda, just watching him lock the door and turn to meet his eyes.

He gave him a one shoulder shrug and said, "Where to?" he shoved his hands in his pants pocket and took a deep breath of the chill but expectantly fresh air. He looked expectantly at the Vulcan when he gave no reply. But that continued to be an unanswered question, as Spock walked passed Jim and out of the veranda.

Following as fast as he can to catch up with him, Jim couldn't help but glare at the alien's back—_although it has to be one of the sexiest backs he'd ever seen_.

He pushed the niggling voice at the very back of his head and continued walking; the mud that squashed underneath the soles of his boots effectively dampening the annoyance he had for the alien.

They had turned to a corner and before Jim knew it, they already had entered the vast amount of foliage that occupied most of the house's surrounding.

"Spock." Jim called, struggling to keep up with the Vulcan.

The alien finally slowed down, turned around and waited until Jim was standing in front of him, slightly panting and brushing a generous amount of leaves that clung to his arms and legs. It had brought him a strange amusement to see his Captain in such a state, but advised himself that showing such an emotion would somehow affect the man, so he opted to watch him instead, fascinated that the man had missed a few leaves on his head, stuck between the lush tendrils of his golden—

He stopped himself from thinking anything further. That was illogical; describing his Captain's hair or the way his cheeks that turned steadily to a deep alluring red had fascinated him, or worse, he was feeling…an urge to brush off the leaves from his hair, feeling the strands bush deliciously through the sensitive pads of his hands.

He managed to go into a catatonic state and shivered a bit at the thought. _This is illogical._

He clasped his hands behind his back. "Captain, you have foliage debris on your hair."

The red that bloomed on the man's face had even gone deeper, if it was even possible. He raised his hands and frantically ran it through his hair, flicking the leaves from his hands when they lodged through the gaps in between his fingers.

"Captain?" Jim chortled uncomfortably. "I thought I told you to call me Jim?"

He looked up at him, but received the same detached façade. "Never mind. Where are you taking me?"

"Let me show you instead; it is not far."

Jim nodded and followed him.

* * *

It had been a long silent walk, although the Vulcan had significantly slowed down and checked on him a few times before proceeding, and he hadn't uttered a single word since. And although the walk had only taken five minutes, it was the longest, most unbearable five minutes of his life.

It had also been unusual for him, of course. He and Spock haven't gone this far without saying a word to each other, and even if the Vulcan's intellectual gibberish had gotten some of his nerves in a twist, it wasn't all that bad, sometimes, and he was starting to miss it. And if this would go on for the next couple of weeks, he would definitely lose it.

And if the talking wouldn't commence, maybe staring at the Vulcan would do instead.

He shook his head, physically this time as the person in question wouldn't see it anyways, and for a moment there he thought he had hit something and next he felt like he was falling, feeling the wind whiz pass his ears, but instead of feeling the hard yet mushy leaf filled ground, he felt something entirely different…something…

"What the—?!"

He felt strong hands grip his arms, and a warm, hard…chest on…his…cheek.

"Are you alright?"

_Oh, God_.

He felt the vibrations from the alien's chest on his cheek, and reverberated down his spine. It felt good. He felt his eyelids hood over his eyes as the sensation washed over him, licking and tickling his nerve endings with warmth. It wasn't long before he felt the vibrations reach his own chest and out his throat in a soft languid…_purr_?

Did he just purr?

He yanked himself out of Spock's protective grasp, wide-eyed and cautious. "Yeah. S—sorry."

Spock righted the man and only let go of his arms when he was satisfied that he was standing straight, or well enough to regain his balance. And he did.

"We're here." He said, turning around and guided Jim in front of him.

Jim noticed that they had entered a clearing it wasn't large but it was big enough to contain a boulder right in the middle. There was also a steady creek that cut across the clearing and down the boulder creating a small waterfall and into a pool, it wasn't big nor deep, but adequate to take a dip in. it had somehow relaxed Jim to see all this; flowers of all sorts littering the field, the serene sound of the flowing creek, chirps of exotic but unseen birds that perched on the nearby trees and crickets…it seemed…well, it looked like a scene from a story book.

He had stepped into the clearing, standing just there to feel the sun on his face and hear the sounds that surrounded the place…and damn, he felt like it was so right to be in that place. It had taken a small but significant amount of pressure from his shoulders and he felt himself sag just a bit. He turned around to face Spock and let a small gasp escape him at the view of his First officer—smiling.

His heart thrummed in his chest, but he ignored it, letting the environment lull his maelstrom of emotions that had just ignited from a single smile.

"Why did you take me here?" he said, turning back to the view as he did.

"I thought it would help…release a few tension. And I see that it has helped; you look at ease now than you were a few moments ago." The Vulcan answered.

It took four steps for Spock to reach Jim and standing next to him he felt at ease, oddly enough.

"This was my mother's favorite place. She had told me it had magical powers, it can…absorb all negative feelings from someone who visits this place. She believed in that superstition, as illogical as that may seem, but it did work, basing from your current mood. This is the only house within the vicinity, so publicity is not a problem."

Jim hummed, glorifying in the sun's heat. "For some reason, I feel warmth in the pit of my belly."

Spock looked at him confused. "I did not know it was to give that kind of effect, but I guess it is quite similar to that; yes, a somewhat comforting feeling."

Jim turned to look at Spock. "No, I meant that literally. Here."

Out of nowhere Jim took hold of Spock's hand and was half way towards his abdomen before Spock had yanked it free from his grasp.

"What are you doing?" Spock asked, panic evident in his voice.

Jim stared, startled by his own actions. Yes, indeed, what was he doing?

He cleared his throat. "It—I think it was the baby."

There was a flash of something in Spock's face but even before Jim could grasp that, it was gone.

"What happened?" _Concern?_

"No! Nothing like that, it's just…I never felt this before." Jim said, looking down and placed his hands on his abdomen for the first time.

He could feel Spock's eyes on him and it felt definitely weird to do such a gesture in front of him, yet he found comfort in doing it. The warmth was there, it was strong and radiating, and oddly enough it felt like drinking something alcoholic, where the warmth would spread gradually until you could feel it to the very depths of your being. But instead of it leaving, it stayed, concentrated on that particular spot.

He hadn't noticed that the wind was picking up, and only then did he look up when he heard the rumble of thunder from up above.

"We must go." Spock said, briefly touching Jim's elbow to get his attention as rain was starting to fall.

Spock turned to leave, uprooting himself from beside Jim and walked towards the path that lead them to the clearing.

Jim followed, and for some reason he was surprised to feel the warmth dissipate and what had replaced that was…emptiness.

He cringed at that thought.

_Emptiness—of what?_ He shook his head. _ If you keep this up, might as well conclude that everything you feel might just be caused by Spock, other than tell yourself it's just your imagination._

He sighed. Denial was such a bitch.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Hey y'all! Whoooopp! Done with chapter 8. Apologies for the late update, but if you must know, I'll update at least a week. Getting more materials for the ideas that I plan to put in this story and I'm doing a whole lot of research for your enjoyment. I hope that's a good enough compensation.

So, **REVIEWS**! Tell me what you _honestly_think.

~Jam


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks for the reviews!_

**Chapter 9**

Things had been…let's say, on edge in Spock's house in the days that followed Jim's relocation; at least he thought it was as far as Jim was concerned, but nothing he had experienced in approximately the past month had brought him out of his comfortable slumber that morning. Two in the morning, that is.

There was that cramping sensation in his lower abdomen again, and he thought what he experienced on the ship would be the last of it. Unfortunately, what accompanied the cramping was a sharp clenching of his stomach, heaving him out of his bed, towards the guest bathroom in top speed—despite the dizziness—and towards the commode. After spewing out most of last night's dinner, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat down on the floor, moaning slightly as he let the effects of the dizziness wear out.

After a minute or so, finally dizziness free, he gingerly stood up, made it out of the bathroom without falling on himself while supporting his midsection and lay back down on the bed, thinking that sleep might help. But within the few minutes of merely shutting his eyes, he found it difficult to actually sleep with the dull pain that had gradually turned sharp. He moaned again, a bit in agony, and shut his eyes tightly when the pain had clenched his insides.

Deciding that this could very much mean something critical, he got up and groped for the nearest furniture to steady himself and go on supporting himself on the walls, at least until he got to Spock's room, but even the slightest of movements had him crippled. He held on the side of his bed to dampen his impact on the floor and simply slipped down to sit when his legs gave out.

"Com—computer…" oh shit, he forgot, there were no computers!

He gasped as he tried to stand up once more, splinting his lower abdomen. Jim stood, only until he was leaning against the bed; sweat beading his forehead, deciding that walking all the way to Spock's room would be the death of him. He managed to grab his communicator on his bedside table, but other than that he chose against, he found it even hard to open his eyes or move any further. He curled on his side and opened the communicator, speed dialing the only man he can trust with this situation. He felt the energy seeping out of his body through his fingertips, rendering him a bit lightheaded and woozy, but he had to stay focused…

There was a beep. "Jim? What the hell? It's two in the morning!" Bones' voice was groggy but there was that exasperated tone to it.

He panted, feeling his throat seize up. "B—Bones…" his voice sounded agonized. Perfect.

"Jim? Jim! What's wrong?"

Just as he was about to answer, he felt his consciousness slip out of his grasp, but before he could actually lose it, he heard muffled but frantic shouts and a loud bang then for a moment he thought he saw brown worried eyes hovering above him, but even before he could tell if that was reality or just in his head, his surroundings were fading into black.

* * *

Spock woke up with a start that morning, although he wasn't one to express his dissatisfaction at the ungodly hour as he could tolerate sleep less than that of a human, he was however disconcerted of the situation that brought him out of his slumber; a situation that had brought with it the feeling of impending doom.

Although the intuition had been faint, he got himself out of bed, nonetheless, troubled. He had a faint feeling in his gut that would best be described as a nagging tug, as the human idiom suggests. This was definitely a first for him, an action based from intuition, and it was rattling for the Vulcan. He had thought based on logic and rationality, and this was…confounding. Ideas may have shifted in his brain for possible reasons, but none of them made sense.

He placed his hand on his forehead to, somehow, still his mind and brought himself to sit on the carpeted floor on an Indian squat and set his fingers together, ready to meditate.

And so, he closed his eyes, but as soon as he was about to put himself into his mediatory state, he had been distracted by a faint but fairly audible to his Vulcan ears. He knotted his brows as the sound had grew louder to his ears, and he couldn't help but assume that it had come from Jim's room.

He listened carefully, straining his ears despite his hearing capabilities and ruled out the possibility of it being his imagination. And he did strain, hearing only silence after the first encounter.

Conclusive of not hearing anything more, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and unknotted his brows, feeling the tension slip out of his consciousness…

"_Jim? Jim! What's wrong?"_

Dr. McCoy?

His eyes snapped open. A feeling similar to dread—albeit faint—washed over him. He had noted the terror in the doctor's voice from the other room, and a sudden mix of his faint emotion, he felt even worse now. He shot up to his feet but stopped momentarily to cringe as a shot of pain surfaced from his abdominal area, exactly where the niggling tug had appeared from.

He bolted from the room and towards Jim's room but stopped to find the door locked. A small growl of frustration ripped out of his throat for some reason, his reserve breaking at the knowledge that Jim was in danger. _His child_.

Using the necessary strength, he broke the door open with his shoulder running towards the crumpled heap of human mass on the bed. A small gasp escaped his lips as blue eyes met his then roll back as he lost consciousness.

"Jim!"

He rearranged Jim carefully, sitting behind him and leaned his weight over his chest while he tilted the man's head upwards, opening his airway. He then reached for the communicator, hearing the other man on the line shouting frantically.

"Spock! For Christ's sake—Jim—is Jim…"

"He is unconscious. Please, come here immediately."

* * *

Jim moaned slightly as he felt something wrap tightly around his arm. He tried to pull away and shrink himself into the warmth of his bed, his warm..._hard_…bed?

He shifted his head and grimaced when his nose came in contact with something that reminded him of arms. Did his bed have arms by any chance?

He stirred from his position.

"Jim?"

Why did that sound so close to his ear? And in Spock's voice…but wasn't this his bed?

"Spock? What—Ow! What the hell?"

"Keep still or I'd have to find another way to get this inside you."

Bones? What was he doing here?

Then everything was falling into place. The pain…yes, and he did call Bones…but where does that leave Spock?

His eyes shot open. He scooted up from his place and back into the head boards but heard a faint grunt as his elbow hit something. It wasn't the hard head board as what he was expecting but rather a near human consistency. He turned his head sharply and immediately to the right it was well enough to break his neck, but as soon as the Vulcan's face came into view, he swore he shouldn't have turned his head even if he wanted to, for right in front of his was Spock's face… or rather beside him. Oh God, it was Spock he was nuzzling into!

"Jim, keep still." Was all the Vulcan said, but he held his eyes; his breath ghosting through the surface of Jim's face, making the hairs on his nape stand on end.

Jim held his breath and felt heat sparking every nerve ending in his body. Part of him wanted to sink into the warmth that the Vulcan's body offered and part of him—the more stubborn and rational one—wanted to wrench himself out of it before he could embarrass himself further with this thoughts. But he followed nor explore the possibilities of neither parts as he gazed into the alien's eyes that held so much meaning than his morbidly stoic face; every secret and longing held was there and he wanted nothing more but to bring it out of him. He was well near into delving more into the deep brown pools until he heard a sharp and thought jerking sound from the other party in the room.

He pulled his eyes away and briefly glanced down, much to his chagrin. When he felt the heat dissipate from his system—which only took seconds—he glanced back up to meet Bones' gaze, but he was still acutely aware of the Vulcan behind him.

"Well," Bones said after clearing his throat. "That was quite a shock you put me in. If it weren't for Spock here, who knows what kind of state we would've found you in."

He cringed then glanced around and found a pack of greenish fluid steadily dripping into the tube that connected with his arm. He tried to get up or at least have little contact with Spock's chest but his efforts were deemed futile as the Vulcan pushed him back down to his chest. Obviously he was still too weak to move on his own, much more resist him.

"Wha—what happened?" Jim said, closing his eyes and soothing his throbbing head with a pinch on the bridge of his nose.

"For starters the pain was a merely a warning sign. Apparently, it was caused by your blood's lack of oxygen to the baby, as its blood is copper-based, only copper can pass through the placenta." He sat down and rubbed his hands with alcohol.

"This here bag is a copper supplement, infusing just to give you a sufficient amount. I'll make necessary arrangements with your supplements after your first trimester; obviously you need much more than hormones now."

"Is the baby alright?" Spock tensed behind Jim.

"Yeah, the baby's fine. It was able to get the reserves from the placenta. Just so you know the copper infusion has its own side effects to Jim, you might get a greenish discoloration in the infusion site but no other discolorations anywhere and you might feel generalized heat afterwards, but cooling precautions should be necessary. Other signs and symptoms aside from those two you should report to me immediately." Bones said and fished something out of his pack.

He placed a couple of vials and syringes on the bedside table. "These are your monthly hormone replacements; I can't give you the pills just yet. The copper infusion would be scheduled every two weeks, so drop by my clinic on the scheduled dates."

"Pills? Why can't I just take that instead? I hate needles." Jim groaned.

"Obviously you can't, I just said so. Pills can have teratogenic effects on your baby this early in the pregnancy, so deal with the injections. Besides, injectables are faster acting than pills."

"Permission to speak."

Jim and Bones glanced at the Vulcan. For a moment there they thought they were the only ones in the room.

"Go ahead, Spock." Jim said.

"Doctor, there is something that puzzles me towards this subject matter." Spock started, glimpsing briefly at the doctor to see if he had his attention. Satisfied that he did, he continued. "Before Jim lost consciousness, if felt the briefest of pain in the same area as Jim's…I am not sure what to make of that."

Jim was damnably confused. He looked at Bones expecting an explanation from their medically inclined conversation but felt a flutter of fear in his stomach when he caught the Doctor's and friend's expression. It was best described as a mixture between confusion and worry.

"Christ." The man hissed. "It appears that you may have synchronized with the pregnancy, being the donor and all. I think it similar to Couvade Syndrome, where the partner experiences symptoms like nausea and vomiting as a result to stress, but pain isn't one of them. Pain…pain…pain—"

The doctor paused then gasped, the confusion in his face turned to that of anger and irritation. "When was the last time you touched?"

"T—touched? Bones!"

"5 days I presume."

The two said simultaneously.

"I knew it! And just when I explained to you the implications of the lack of physical connection! Pain can be a result of that! Oh God, how can I not see that! It may be similar to Couvade Syndrome but the difference is with this particular syndrome the partners are mutually involved in the pregnancy, in your case I believe the opposite, that's what caused the pain. That's why I told you two to at least touch each other! Defiance is not an option Jim; this could result to consequences you wouldn't want to delve into."

"Well, that isn't exactly an option is it?" Jim snorted.

"I agree with Jim, as I tend to business with Star Fleet most of the day. However, I do not understand what you imply by touch."

There was a silence in the room and Jim could very well point out where this was heading. But curiosity be damned, he looked up at Bones and decided to know for himself. "What are you suggesting, Bones?"

"Touch… you know…" Bones waved his hand feebly and widened his eyes at Jim, hoping the man would get his meaning, but the confusion in his friends face told him otherwise. He groaned. "_You know_…ugh! I'm not in the position to be elaborating this but I'm your goddamned physician and I must tell you. Fucking Christ. Intimate damned it!"

Jim stiffened. Being this close to Spock was getting more uncomfortable in more ways than none, especially with the topic at hand. He worried his lower lip and fumbled his hands. There was something bothering him about the whole situation but he could very well guess where this was going and it very much involved Spock. It wasn't that he didn't want Spock to touch him, heck he had the alien burned to his brain whenever he needed release; but it wasn't just that now, it was the actual thing! And another thing Spock was a man, much less a Vulcan for crying out loud, they don't just touch people casually like humans do!

"W—What?" Jim sputtered, shifting out of Spock's arms, at least as far as he can get himself out of.

"I do not get the logic of touching intimately." came Spock's reply.

"Exactly! Why the hell would we…even…" Jim trailed off, feeling himself heat up at the thought.

"Look here you two. A pregnancy isn't as simple as getting one impregnated and you leave it just like that. There has to be a give and take relationship here and that's the thing that you don't have. Sure you live in this place together, but without intimate contact you might have just gone back to Iowa, Jim. What you two are doing isn't good for the baby, it can feel the tension that you two have, and even if it's this early in the pregnancy it's a good thing it's doing just that. You two keep this up, I'm telling you the pregnancy won't last very long. It can also cause serious consequences to the two of you.

"You two feel the same things so you can handle or at lease work through this pregnancy together. If this situation doesn't bring you two together, the baby will."

Bones sighed when he caught the two's sullen expression. "Look, it doesn't have to be intimate immediately, you can start off with a simple pat; I know this is very complex to you Spock, but it's the only way."

* * *

A blast from jet turbines created a mini sandstorm of dust and pebbles as it descended down into the ground, but it wasn't just some ground that it landed on as it gave out a loud metallic thunk and a groan as the full weight of the ship finally settled into the planet.

A hooded figure stepped out of the ship and into the building. It stopped down and brushed the blood from the ground and rubbed it between his fingers. With a snarl it stood back up, glaring at the empty but dusty table top, similar to the state of most of the table tops. A low and sinister growl erupted from its throat. A loud cracking sound echoed around the room as its fist collided with the table, sending the bifurcated piece to the ground.

Its ominous eyes scowled at the ruins, bile filling its mouth. "James Tiberius Kirk."

**TBC**

**A/N: **DONE! With chapter 9! That has been one long chapter for me, but I hope this one is long enough for you as well. Wooo, a twist had developed. I did take into consideration about the few reviews that you, my reviewers have left, especially **Lawlady562**. The other suggestions that you guys made (**Tishbing :)** ) I'll try to sneak them into the later chapters. Thank you so much for your suggestions!

**Reviews** are much obliged!

**A/N2: **realized my mistake... changed that now :)

~Jam


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